


If You Jump, I Jump

by firefall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Embarrassed Louis, Fluff, Height Differences, M/M, like that's really all there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefall/pseuds/firefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere along the way Niall got taller than Louis and I really don't think we talked about it enough.</p>
<p>This is really just a glorified game of Keep Away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Jump, I Jump

**Author's Note:**

> Ridiculously self-indulgent and I'm 100% okay with that.
> 
> I don't own anyone portrayed in this fic. Though I can't promise this never happened.

Louis Tomlinson, for all his reckless abandon and off-the-wall antics, didn’t like to be taken off-guard.  Niall knew it.  All the boys knew it.  And, being the great friends that they were, they tried to surprise him as often as possible.  Sometimes it was something big – like dumping his entire suitcase into the hotel bathtub and filling it with water – but other times it was something tiny, something so miniscule it was like an itty bitty thorn in the side of their unofficial leader.

Like ripping his phone out of his hand and running across the tourbus. 

“Hey!” he whined, jumping off the sofa and racing after Niall, his bottom lip poking out of his mouth in an exaggerated pout.  “What are you doing?  Give it back!”

Niall grinned, twirling gracefully past their bunks and out of the older boy’s reach.  “Sorry, no can do, mate!” he teased, dancing by Paul who was fulfilling his main duty of rolling his eyes.  “You’ve been glued to this thing all day.  Live a little, man!”

Louis just sighed, grabbing Niall’s arm and stopping him mid-spin.  “I _am_ living, you absolute moron!  I’m thousands of miles away from home, I’m onstage almost every night singing to thousands of people, _and_ I’m about to go surfing later.  What part of that sounds dull to you?”  He made a half-hearted grab for his mobile, but Niall smacked his hand away hard enough to sting.  “ _Ow_!  Just give it to me!”

Laughing near hysterically, Niall waggled his eyebrows up and down and started to slip the phone down the front of his pants.  “You’ll have to get it yourself, Tommo!”

 “Don’t think I won’t,” Louis threatened, scrabbling for Niall’s waistband and not at all dissuaded by the prospect of digging around down there for what rightfully belonged to him.  “You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

But before Louis could get a hand in, Niall quickly spun around and removed the mobile himself.  Then he thought of something, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.  “Okay…” he said slowly, nodding and turning back to face his friend.  “If you can reach it, it’s yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said…if you can reach it, it’s yours,” Niall repeated, raising his arm over his head, phone in hand.  Louis’ face went red almost instantly and Niall had to bite back a giggle.  When the older boy didn’t move, Niall quirked an eyebrow and said, “Well?”

 Louis sighed, resigned to his fate.  “I hate you,” he muttered.  Then he started jumping.

Niall giggled as he jumped right along with him, keeping the phone constantly out of reach of the smaller boy and cooing as his friend got more and more annoyed.  “Almost got it, Lou!” he crowed, taking advantage of Louis’ vulnerable state to dig his free fingers into his sides and tickle him.  His friend nearly growled in response.  “That one was _so_ close, man…just once more.  Okay, maybe not.  This time, though. This is your time, Tomlinson!”

By now, Louis’ face was so red it was nearly purple.  “Stop!” he squealed, too agitated to care that he sounded like one of their pre-teen fangirls.  “Just give me my freaking phone, Niall!  It isn’t funny anymore!”

“Not a chance!” Niall shouted back, enjoying being the one in control for once.  Louis was so often the curator of mass humiliation, so to see him embarrassed was kind of nice.  In a sick, twisted way that Niall was completely okay with.

After another thirty seconds of jumping and whining and all-around tomfoolery, Paul finally spoke up from the mini tourbus table, throwing down his paperwork to groan, “Just give it back to him, Niall.  He’s had enough…you’re gonna make him cry if you aren’t careful.”

At their tour manager’s words, Louis let out an indignant gasp that did little to hide the tell-tale frustrated shininess in his pretty blue eyes.  But before he could say anything, Niall took pity on him and dropped the phone into his hands.  “There you go, darling,” he said cheekily, fluttering his eyelashes and running teasing fingers over Louis’ slim shoulders.  “Why didn’t you just _tell_ me you couldn’t reach?”

“You are the worst kind of person,” Louis moaned, covering his face with his hands, the blush not quite faded.  “I don’t even know why we let you in this band.  You are _way_ more trouble than you’re worth.”

Not at all worried by his friend’s words, Niall shrugged and pulled a goofy grin.  “We needed _someone_ to keep you in line.”  Then the grin turned into a shit-eating smirk.  “And grab things off the top shelf.”

“The worst kind of person!” Louis repeated, falling to the floor in a heap of defeat.  “The absolute _worst_.”


End file.
